"Funny," you might say. "That doesn't look like Scott's car."
Yesterday Scott's car starting belching fire (which has NOTHING WHATSOEVER to do with my taking his compact sedan four-wheeling through the desert in search of a secluded spot for Mr. Hopkins to take a dump) and we had to take it to the nearest mechanic qualified to fix it, 75 miles away in Flagstaff at the European Auto Werks. Yeah, "e". I think that "e" means that we will pay twice what the repairs are worth. In the meantime we get to drive this fancy green machine. Whee.
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